


Tell Me A Story, Tell Me a Tale

by Emiline



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff, Humor, Love Stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 11:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiline/pseuds/Emiline
Summary: “That’s the story you would like to hear?” he asked, surprised.Sybil nodded.“Well, it is a bit irregular…” fifteen pairs of expectant eyes turned towards him. “But I suppose…well, why not?”In which Sybil asks to hear the story of how Mr. Rowan-Webb and Miss Bat met.





	Tell Me A Story, Tell Me a Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season 2, but no particular spoilers.
> 
> Standard disclaimer: Not my characters, don't make any money off this, promise to put all characters back when I'm done with them.

“And now,” Mr. Rowan-Webb’s eyes twinkled, “As you have all done your work so splendidly this week, I do believe we have just enough time for Friday story-time.”

There was a great cacophony as the girls pushed the desks out of the way and sat down in a circle.

“And what story would you like this week? I believe it is Miss Sybil’s turn to choose.”

Sybil ducked her head. “Would you-” she glanced shyly up at Mr. Rowan-Webb and then away.

Beatrice slipped her hand into Sybil’s. “You can do it,” Beatrice whispered.

“WouldyoutellusthestoryofhowyoumetMissBat?” Sybil breathed out in a rush.

“That’s the story you would like to hear?” he asked, surprised.

Sybil nodded.

“Well, it is a bit irregular…” fifteen pairs of expectant eyes turned towards him. “But I suppose…well, why not?”

The girls cheered.

“You remember that Miss Bat is a famous singer who used to perform all over the world? Well, when I was a young man,” he smiled, “a _very_ long time ago, though probably not quite as long as you all are imagining, Miss Bat was just starting out her singing career. She was already pretty famous even so, and I had heard recordings of her, although I had never seen her picture.”

“Never seen her picture?” Clarice interjected. “But you said she was famous.”

“And so she was, but remember, this was a while ago and there weren’t as many pictures back then, and I’d come from a small town so I didn’t have as many opportunities. I had a cousin who lived in London, whose life I thought was terribly exciting because he got to go see and do so many things. One day, he wrote me a letter inviting me to visit him for a couple of weeks. And so I accepted and had a splendid time seeing all sorts of new things, and going to the theater and the opera and the museums…”

“And you met Miss Bat at the opera!” Beatrice said with excitement.

“I might have, but as it turns out, I did not. My cousin was invited to a masquerade ball, and he invited me to come with him. So I put on my best clothes, and he and I bought masks to cover our faces, because you see the point of the masquerade ball is to go in disguise. We went to the place where the ball was being held. It was a beautiful room in a beautiful house, with a grand staircase, and everyone was so grand and elegant and for a moment my heart quailed and I wondered what I was doing there. But then the footmen announced my cousin and me and I felt so grown up and so grand and we swept down the staircase onto the ballroom floor.”

“Like in Cinderella,” Sybil breathed, eyes wide.

“Yes, a bit like that. And as I stood there, looking around I saw a beautiful young lady – the most beautiful young lady I’d ever seen, and she smiled at me with the kindest smile, and I knew in that instant that that young lady was the only young lady for me. I made my way towards her, and bowed, and asked her if she would like to dance. Ordinarily I could never have done such a thing, for I was a shy lad, and if you were not at a masked ball it was quite improper to go up to someone you didn’t know to ask them to dance, but there were special rules for this dance.”

He paused, and the students sat there, spellbound. 

“We danced, and she was so light on her feet, and I’m sure I made some kind of light conversation although I was so transfixed by her that I’ve really no memory of what I said. I danced with her three different times that evening, which was quite scandalous, I can tell you, and at the end of the third dance we went out onto the terrace to look at the stars. And I asked her if I might know the name of my fair partner.”

“And I said,” Miss Bat cut in and the entire class jumped and looked to the door, where Miss Bat stood, a fond smile on her face. “Only, dear sir, if I may know yours.”

“Dearest,” Mr. Rowan-Webb rose and held out his hand to her. She took it and he pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I told my fair lady that I was hers to command and anything she asked of me I would grant her. ‘My name is Algernon Rowan-Webb’, I said, ‘I lay it at your feet.’”

“And I replied, ‘Good sir, my name is Gwendolyn Bat.’”

“ ‘Miss Bat,’ said I, ‘It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. May I make so bold as to ask if I may call upon you tomorrow?’”

“ ‘Yes indeed you may,’ I replied,” Miss Bat took up the story. “I gave him my calling card so he would know my address, and he did call upon me the very next day.”

“And it was very lucky that I didn’t tell my cousin about it until after I’d gone, or I might never have had the courage to go,” Mr. Rowan-Webb continued, “for he knew what I did not, that Gwendolyn Bat was the Extraordinary Esper Vespertillo’s real name.” 

“I wouldn’t have let you give me up in any case.”

“And that is how I met the Extraordinary Miss Bat,” Mr. Rowan-Webb finished, threading his fingers through Miss Bat’s, and holding her hand to his heart. She beamed at him. 

“It is just like a fairy tale,” Sybil said in wonder.

“But out of order,” Beatrice interjected, “because the evil witch and the getting turned into a frog happened later.”

“Ah well, as to that, it always sounds more like a fairy tale in the telling of it than in the living of it. Even though Miss Bat does make an excellent heroine,” he winked.

“Did you miss her while you were a frog?” Sybil asked.

“Of course I did. Even when I had been a frog so long that I couldn’t quite remember who I was, or who she was, I still knew that she had been important to me. And I had this.” He pulled something out of his robe and over his head.

“A necklace?”

“A locket.” He flipped it open and handed it to Sybil. “Be gentle with it please.”

The whole class crowded around.

“Woah, is that Miss Bat?”

“Is that what she looked like before you turned into a frog? You must have been a frog a very long time.”

“Clarice!” Beatrice gasped.

“What?”

“That wasn’t very polite.”

“I was only making an observation.”

“Well it’s not very nice to make comments about grownups ages.”

“Are you sure? We talk about our ages all the time.”

“It’s different with grownups.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

The locket, having made its way through the group, was now handed back reverentially to Mr. Rowan-Webb, who closed it and slipped it back over his head. He pulled his long beard through, and there was a small smatter of laughter.

“I do look a bit ridiculous don’t I?” he chuckled. “I rarely take it off though, so I usually don’t have to worry about it.”

The bell rang. The girls scrambled back to their desks, stuffing papers and books and pens back into their bags. 

Sybil hung back, fiddling with a clasp.

“Is there something you need, Sybil?” Mr. Rowan-Webb asked.

Sybil shook her head, stars shining in her eyes. “Thank you, that was the best story.” She darted forward, hugged them, and scurried off.

“Oh dear,” Mr. Rowan-Webb worried. “I’m not sure we can live up to that sort of look.”

“Dearest, we won’t need to,” Miss Bat kissed his cheek. “The students see us far too often to keep us up on a pedestal for long, and Sybil’s a sensible girl. Now,” she tucked her arm into his, “I have been thinking about what we should get Dimity this year and I think I’ve hit on just the thing…”


End file.
